The Space Between Scars
by PandaPez
Summary: A late-night, unexpected encounter between friends reveals that some scars never really fade, no matter how well they're hidden. Set during ME2, early/pre-Shakarian.


The port observation deck was unlocked.

Garrus blinked at the green light as he came out of the men's bathroom, curious. It'd been over a week since Shepard had brought him aboard the _Normandy SR-2_, and never once in that time had he seen any of the crew use the room in front of him. He'd thought it strange at first, wondering if perhaps the ship had been launched before it's construction had been fully completed. That would have explained why so many of the other rooms were likewise sealed as well, after all.

And yet now here it was, unlocked and inviting. He glanced over his shoulder towards the main battery where his cot was waiting for him. It was late into the night cycle and most of the crew were already fast asleep in their respective bunks. The few who weren't would be attending to their duties up in various parts of the ship, and so Garrus found himself completely alone - and unobserved - on the quiet deck. He looked back at the door beside him, hesitating. Then he shrugged. A quick look couldn't hurt.

He pressed a talon against the door's panel, plates itching with anticipation. Yet whatever he'd been expecting to see when the door finally slid open, it certainly wasn't what he found.

"Shepard," he said, mandibles flicking.

Her back was towards him as she stood in the dark room, a lone silhouette framed by a sea of stars. He had a brief glimpse of her - shoulders squared, back straight, feet spread wide as she stared out of a window almost twice as wide as Garrus was tall - before she started at the noise and turned to face him, one brow arched.

"Garrus," she said, blinking. "Hey."

"Sorry, Commander," he apologized, already taking a step back to leave. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

The corner of her lip inched upwards. "Relax, Garrus. You're not bothering me. Did you need something?"

He shook his head. "I was just passing by and noticed the door was unlocked and, well…"

"Figured you'd take a peak?" she finished for him, smile growing.

"Something like that."

"I did the same, back on my first night. Though it took awhile to convince the ship's AI to let me in. Finally had to start opening up a hack program on my omni-tool before EDI budged."

"An AI making life difficult for an organic?" Garrus asked, voice dry as he leaned against the doorframe. "Imagine that."

Little lines spread across Shepard's forehead, almost invisible in the dim light. "I know, I know," she sighed, picking up on his implication, and rubbed a hand across her brow. Garrus blinked, noticing the sheen of sweat gathered there for the first time just as she wiped it away. He narrowed his eyes, spotting other areas where perspiration had darkened her shirt and skin. _Was Shepard exercising in here?_ "But we need all the help we can get, Garrus, and the Council made it clear enough that allies are going to be hard to come by in the next few months. Honestly, it might even come to begging before all of this is over." she added, nose wrinkling at the thought.

"Well," he said, glancing around the room, "at least we won't have to _live _like beggars."

Shepard snorted, rolling her eyes. "No kidding. Can't say I remember the original Normandy having it's own personal bar."

His mandibles flicked. "Really? Is it stocked?"

"More or less, as far as I can tell. Go ahead and see for yourself."

He followed her gesture and stepped further into the room. Sure enough, an impressive assortment of drinks were stocked along some shelves in room's right-hand corner. Garrus made his way over to them and picked up the nearest bottle, examining it. _Sarian Royale. _An asari brandy popular among the galaxy's levo-based elite lately. He set it down and peered over at the other bottles, a sinking suspicion tugging at his stomach.

"Anything good?" Shepard asked from behind him.

"Plenty. If you're not a turian or quarian, that is."

"Ah. Right. Cerberus."

Garrus turned around with a shrug. "Makes sense they'd only stock supplies useful to humans."

"Maybe, but I'll put in a requisition for some dextro-based alcohol all the same. With what we're up against, chances are we'll all need a drink now and then."

He nodded, walking over to where she stood. "Seems likely. At least we'll have a room with a view to do it in, though." he said, staring out at the stars beyond the window. He tapped a talon against the thick glass. "Completely impractical, but it _does_ do wonders for the decor. Guess the Illusive Man decided that was worth risking a few off-duty crewman getting spaced by a stray disrupter torpedo."

Beside him, Shepard crossed her arms. "Guess so."

Something in her tone caught his attention - the words were tighter than before, almost clipped - and he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. She'd followed his lead and now stared out at the endless space before them, her expression unchanged. Yet the tips of her fingers were flushed white where they gripped against her skin, and her heart-rate had suddenly spiked in his visor's readings.

_Reports coming in claim that the SSV Normandy - ship of the famous Commander Shepard - has been attacked while hunting down rogue Geth units in the Traverse. Officials have failed to confirm or deny these rumors, or even to comment on whether or not the first human Spectre is in fact MIA._

Garrus stared at the traces of dried sweat that still clung to Shepard's skin.

_Spirits, you're an idiot, Vakarian, _he told himself.

"Sorry, Shepard," he said quickly, "I didn't mean-"

She cut him off with a smile and a raised hand. "Easy, big guy, no need to apologize. I know what you meant." Then she arched a brow and narrowed her eyes. "Besides, you're right. It _does _do wonders for the decor."

Garrus rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing. "Right."

She gave him another smile and bumped her shoulder against his. "And you're right about another thing, too." she said, turning back towards the window.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's a hell of a view." she said softly, her eyes lit from the dim glow of a thousand stars.

"It certainly is." Garrus agreed quietly, watching her. He cleared his throat a moment later and faced forward, and several minutes of easy silence passed as the two of them stood there together, watching the stars drift by.

It was easy to forget how new this all was for her. True, two years had passed since Garrus and the rest of the galaxy had mourned the destruction of the _Normandy._ But for Shepard? For her it had been only _weeks_ since she'd watched her whole life literally fall to pieces before her eyes. And yet she hid it so well, never once complaining, never once hesitating - was it really any wonder it was so easy to forget how many scars had been cut into the woman beside him, especially when Cerberus had gone through such lengths to hide them?

"Shepard…"_ How are you, really?_ he almost asked, but couldn't bring himself to say the words. He told himself it wasn't his place to question her like that, that he had no right to force open the wounds she'd bandaged and covered so carefully on her own.

"Yeah?" she asked, glancing over at him, her eyes just as warm and bright as they'd been the last time he'd seen them all those years ago.

"I…" He cleared his throat. "I just wanted to say that it's good to have you back, Shepard."

She blinked. Then a smile, slow and wide, spread upwards across her face until finally, for the first time that night, it reached all the way up to even her eyes. "It's good to have you back too, Garrus. Turns out things are actually pretty boring when your ass isn't around to save all time."

Garrus snorted. "You think taking down a couple dozen mercs makes us even for all the times I've pulled _your _ass out of the fire?"

"Hey, it wasn't _just _mercs. There was a gunship involved too, or did that rocket to the face make you forget that part?"

He waved a hand. "Doesn't count. It was already damaged when it showed up."

"Yeah, because _I _sabotaged the repairs."

"And _I _caused it to need repairing in the first place. With one shot, I might add."

"Crow all you like, Garrus, but we both know who the better shot here is."

"Hpmh. Remind me to take you to a range when this is over. Then we can settle this thing once and for all."

Shepard narrowed her eyes and gave him a crooked smile. "Deal. Just try not to be too upset when you lose, Vakarian."

"Sure, as long as you promise not to tear up when you do. You know I hate to see humans cry."

She laughed, and the sound sent a warm thrill of satisfaction through him. He opened his mouth to say something else sufficiently witty enough to make her laugh once more, but a sudden yawn cut him off before he could get the words out.

"Shit, sorry." Shepard apologized, watching him with a sheepish smile. "I shouldn't have kept you talking so long."

He shook his head. "No need to apologize, Commander. I'm the one who interrupted you, after all."

She arched a brow in response. "Guess we're both to blame, then. Still, you should head over to your bunk and get some rest while you can. We'll reach _Purgatory _by 0700 and I want all eyes open when we board. Miranda said the transfer should go down without a problem, but…"

"But it doesn't hurt to expect the worse."

She nodded. "Exactly."

"Understood, Commander." _What about you? Are you going to get any sleep? _He almost added, but the words caught in his throat, just as before. So instead all he did was flick his mandibles and nod a farewell, then he turned to leave. When he reached the door he paused, however, and despite himself called back, "And Shepard?" She turned to face him. "I meant what I said earlier. It's good to have you back."

The smile she gave him him was strange, different from the others before, though he couldn't explain why. "Thank you, Garrus." she replied quietly.

He swallowed and, unsure of what to say in response, simply nodded once again and left.


End file.
